Living on Borrowed Time
by El Leon Y La Oveja
Summary: Peter Pettigrew, AKA Wormtail, made the choice to betray his friends instead of suffering at Voldemort's hands. Once the Dark Lord has returned and is eager to kill Harry Potter, does Wormtail feel guilty about what he is doing to James' son? ONE-SHOT


When I looked back over the years, there was no definitive moment which sent my life hurtling off in the wrong direction. I made my choices out of fear, out of jealousy and out of the longing to feel safe for once. I needed security and had I stayed with my friends, with my brothers, I wouldn't have been guaranteed safety. I would have died and because I was never as brave as any of them, I didn't stay. I swapped sides. Simple.

Except that it wasn't. Nearly fourteen years later, I helped my master return and I delivered him to the graveyard where his father's remains lay buried. And on that night, my loyalty faltered more than it had done since I first joined the Dark Lord.

I hadn't realised that Harry Potter would affect me so much. I'd even met him before and felt nothing like the guilt which surged through me in the graveyard. Perhaps because I was never intending to harm him that night in the Shrieking Shack. I'd only feared for **my** life that night, petrified that Black and Lupin would murder me as they had threatened.

But I had escaped and returned to my master. I had made him stronger, allowed him to formulate a plan, to contact his old allies and to use them. I had done everything that a faithful servant should have done for his master and still the Dark Lord did not trust me, nor value my efforts.

As I stood in front of the headstone that night, with the Dark Lord jeering from every angle and a crowd of Death Eaters staring at me like they wished to kill me themselves, I felt far more than a pang of regret. I couldn't bear to glance at the teenage boy who looked so like James, so like the friend I used to idiolise and love. Just the mere sight of his face sent me back to those carefree days before the war, days when we used to roam the castle as the Marauders and when we spent nights as a werewolf, dog, stag and rat.

I wanted to curse the boy for resembling his father so, for dragging my mind back to what had been so long ago. I didn't want to remember. I feared the past too greatly. If he died, what would Black and Lupin do when they heard about my involvement, when they heard that I had gagged and bound James's son myself? With shaking hands, I had forced myself to detach, to forget who I was fighting against but I couldn't do it. Even the guilt over having killed the _spare_ boy who arrived was overshadowed by what I was doing to the boy who, years ago, I had sworn to my friends to protect, as part of their Fidelius Charm.

After the night's events, I felt tired. I just wished that I could have run away and lived as a rat again, without having to constantly serve the Dark Lord, without fearing my old friends' return. If they ever saw me again, they would undoubtedly kill me for what I had done to them. Now, not only had I betrayed James and Lily but I had also helped the Dark Lord to capture and try to kill their son. I felt immensely guilty that it was my old friends who would suffer at our hands but the Death Eaters followed orders. I followed the orders of my master and in return, he kept me safe and gave me a place in his circle. In bringing about his return, I felt as thought I deserved my position with him more than I had ever deserved the friendship of the Marauders. Of course, **they** never saw it as an elite group but I had always marvelled over my place with the other three and wondered why I was honoured to be their friend, to earn their trust. I knew that I had never done anything worthy of them but with the Death Eaters, I had earned my place time after time. I had delivered the Potters to the Dark Lord, I had remained faithful to him when he vanished, I had escaped from my old friends once more to find him, I had delivered Bertha Jorkins to him and I had helped him to regain his former strength. I could justify to the Dark Lord why I deserved to stand alongside him.

Yet he never treated me half as well as the Marauders had done. Even when I had proved myself over and over again, the Dark Lord despised me, insulted me and doubted my loyalty. Not once did the Marauders doubt my loyalty to them, even at the end. They stood patiently by my side whilst we attempted to become Animagi and were never once angry at how long it took me to grasp the spells, the potions and finally succeed. They were loyal to me for seven years, even when I wasn't loyal to them. I should never have betrayed their trust.

But if I could go back and change the past, I wouldn't. I would have died if I had refused the Dark Lord. He knew that I was Secret Keeper and he would have killed me on the spot if I hadn't provided him with the information that he needed. I was never brave like my friends, and I never suited Gryffindor. Over the years, I think I realised that the Sorting Hat was wrong. When I was at Hogwarts, when I was a Marauder, I told myself that when my day came to prove my loyalty, my strength and my bravery, I would embrace it. But I didn't.

I was too much of a coward to die for my friends. I had no doubt that they would all have died for me but that was not enough to change my mind. I wanted a strong master to keep me safe from the events that were unfolding. At Hogwarts, the Marauders were the strongest and most influential students I could have been friends with. After Hogwarts, that changed. They weren't the best players on the board anymore and I didn't feel safe with them.

And ultimately, my decision would allow me to outlive two of the friends who I had once admired. I chose sides with my head and not my heart.


End file.
